Fighting Destiny
by sugarFREEgum
Summary: It has been years into War Against Voldemort. Harry is missing and Hermione has taken charge of the Order. Draco, on the other hand, is desparately seeking redemption from his past, hoping to cross paths with Hermione once again. HGDM
1. Prologue: Patriot Talks

Hey guys, this is a sequal to Dreams and Realities, with a pretty new twist so you don't have to read the prequal. All you need to know is in the prologue. The real story begins after all the italicized stuff. Hope yal like it.

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**Prologue**

June 6th, 2006

Hermione lay on the barren land, immobile and bleeding to death. She had lost. She, the Order's last hope, had lost her battle against the Dark Lord's forces.

_How could I have lost? My plan was perfect. Our plan was perfect. _

It was a perfect plan; it was fool-proof. But something had gone horribly wrong: the key to their victory had betrayed her.

Hermione wished she could go back in time to last winter. She regretted everything that had happened. But she gave up on the thought on the realization that it was pointless. She could change nothing. She couldn't fight fate.

A droplet of tear rolled out of her eye as she finally passed out from the loss of blood. She was dying. She had given up. She went to sleep, dreaming of Draco Malfoy.

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_My name is Draco Malfoy. Because of my past sins, I am destined to live the rest of my life in misery._

_You might think me cruel; you might think me evil.I suppose that true.I had the misfortune of being born a pure-blood from a family full of death-eaters. I suppose it is my cruel fate that binds me to commit evil. _

_I am responsible for the death of Professor Albus Dumbledore, Ronald Weasley, and many others. I have killed no one, but I certainly am the strategist behind their deaths. Despite the fact that I regret what I have done, I can not apologize for what I have done. _

_I committed evil not because I wanted to commit evil, not because I loved cruelty, but because I had to. I had to contribute to the atrocities of the Dark Lord because I had a family to take care of, a family to keep alive, a mother who never ceased to love me. I made myself the criminal in hopes that my mother wouldn't have to endure the torture I was put through. I trained hard and became the best wizard I could possibly be under the watchful eyes of Lord Voldemort so I could one day protect the ones I love from the evil lord's hands. _

_But one day, something within me snapped. The day I dueled Ronald Weasley, I saw to a full extent what I had become. And I hated it. Ronald Weasley was on a mission to destroy a horcrux. I was on a mission to find a body for the said horcrux. He stood no chance against me, but he kept going; he didn't give up. He was also fighting for the ones he loved; he was fighting for Hermine Granger. His love overwhelmed me; it overwhelmed the horcrux so much that it killed the horcrux. _

_I saw his dying body under the cover of my invisibility cloak. I watched Hermione coming after him, but too late. I saw her yelling out his name. I saw her trying to revive him. I saw her tears flooding out of her eyes. I couldn't work for the Dark Lord anymore. I had to run away. _

_I wanted my mother and my mentor, Severus Snape to come with me. But they told me just as I had to do what I needed to do, they had to do what they needed to do. I left, conscience stabbing into my heart for my inability to protect the ones I love like the Weasley. I had simply tossed the responsibility to my mentor, once again. I left in hopes of a new beginning. _

_So I came to America, the Land of Dreams, to find the true definition of love. Surprisingly, I found it very quickly. _

_In the American Suburbia, I encountered Hermione Granger, a face I never thought I'd see again.Failing to see throughmy disguise, she somehow fell in love with my heart.She helped mediscover what love really meant. I had fulfilled my dream. Or so I thought. _

_My past never ceases to haunt me, it seems. Hermione somehow discovered that I was actually Draco Malfoy. Using the Veritaserum, she squeezed out of me the fact that I had been responsible for Ronald Weasley's death. She left me before I could even say "wait."_

_To make matters worse,I have been caught by the CIA, delighted to get a hold on me.I was on their Wizard's Most Wanted List after all. _

_I suppose I am fated to be punished for my past sins for the rest of my life. I am here in America, unable to protect the people I care about. I lost Hermione, the woman who showed me the meaning of love. And I'm sitting here now, in a CIA interrogation room, about to spend the rest of my life in some prison cell. _

_My destiny, as Americans put it, suck. _

_I want to find Hermione and make her love me again. I want to redeem myself of my past sins. I want to be stronger so I can finally protect the ones I love. I can't be here forever. I'm not about to wither away the rest of my life in some bloody shit hole. _

_I can not accept my destiny. _

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**Patriot Talks**

Past-midnight, December 17th, 2005

CIA headquarters at Langley was built behind steep hills overlooking the Potomac River. The area had once been covered by lush forest, but most of the forest had been cut down by the regional development. Most of the trees remained around the headquarters, though, hiding the building from a common wonderer. Despite the fact that it was late - it was past midnight - lights were still on through most of the building. When it came down to a matter of national security, someone was always working, full of patriotism and idea that an extra hour at work would somehow, in some way, contribute to making America a safer place from international conspiracy. Agent John Michaels was that sort of a person. He had worked in the agency for thirty years, starting as a lowly field agent and now the second in command of a Special Intelligence division. That meant he was in charge of most of the work. The division heads, despite their merits and capabilities, were more of a bureaucratic politician than a field worker. They dealt with the politics, signing papers and making decisions that would affect millions around the world. He, on the other hand, liked to get his hands dirty and lead missions. That's why he knew he would never get any higher in rank; nobody liked the man in charge to get his head blown off in action.

_Damn_, he realized upon thinking. _I should be happy where I am._ One biological trait made Michaels different from the rest of government officials; he was a wizard. Despite all the civil rights reforms and the so called "civil-service system," minorities, especially wizards, unknown to the public, were tremendously underrepresented in the top-department jobs. That made him the highest ranking wizard in the US Government. Appointments after appointments of department heads would shift through the top position, never able to cling on forever. He, on the other hand, would stay in his position as the second in command and the man behind the power of the CIA Department of Magical Relations.

Knowing this, Michaels walked down the executive row of the CIA, passing the statue-like guards that stood in front of every door. He quietly walked passed the offices of division heads, the cowardly political bureaucrats who depended too much on the men under them - not that it was a bad thing. Like he had done on countless occasions, he flashed his ID badge to the guard at the end of the hall and opened the door, going inside like he owned the building. The lax security for this room was unsurprising, because the next room posed the greatest challenge for intruders.

There was another door, unguarded this time. Instead of a guard, there was a hole yes, a hole big enough to fit a finger, any finger. The CIA had decided to fix their security problem prevalent in many other security agencies. When one used a hand or iris scanner, an intruder could simply cut off a guard's hand or gauge out a guard's eye. This "hole-scanner" as he called it forced the person to insert a finger, a correct finger in just the right way, or a massive electric shock would paralyze the person immediately. Additionally, a scan on the finger print confirmed the person's ID. He inserted his right pinkie, palm faced right; the door unlocked and he let himself in.

The office was owned by Gary Mason, the man behind the enormous hidden powers of the CIA. He, not the CIA director known to the public, was the true head of the CIA. Arguably the most powerful man in the United States, he knew everything from everything about American intelligence; he knew more about intelligence than the President himself. A loyal, lifetime devotee to his position, the ex-Marine who rarely went home leaned back against the stereotypical black, leathered swivel chair, reading the stereotypical file about some stereotypical intelligence, sipping the stereotypical coffee, heavy with caffeine. Certainly deserving of his position unlike many others, Mason was one of the sharpest men, and certainly the best interrogator, in the world. If Michaels respected anyone, it was Gary Mason.

"John," Mason kept reading the file papers without lifting an eye. "What can I do for you today?"

"I have some issued to discuss with you," Michaels stood straight and firm, giving respect to his superior. "It has to do with Draco Malfoy, the death-eater defector we caught in Texas."

"Oh?" Mason lifted one eye - it had been one of the things that made even Michaels shiver - and scanned Michael's composure like a magic eye. Michaels knew Mason already had an idea of what this was about. "He wants to cop a deal." He chuckled.

"Yes, sir" Michaels agreed, not surprised by Mason's discerning mind.

"Shouldn't you refer that to the head of Magical Relations Department and not me?" Mason referred to Michael's Special Intelligence Division,beginning to read his files again.

There was a considerable length of silence as Michaels just stood there, knowing the fact that Mason knew the reason for his action.

"You know," Mason sighed. "One of these days, you will have to learn how to trust others." Michaels twitched by this comment. "The primary reason for why you were never appointed as the Secretary of Magic by the president was your lack of faith in people, even in your superiors."

"I trust you, sir."

"I'm afraid that's not enough for the President, son. You need to have more trust than that."

"The last time I trusted one of them, my godson was killed."

"That was years ago, John." Mason looked at him in the eye. "It's a different time now, with a new director and a new president. Your director is a good, trustworthy man. Please understand that he is trying his best."

"His best may not be enough for me, sir."

"I'm afraid you'll be stuck in your position then."

"Career advancement is not my priority, sir." Michaels snapped for a minute moment - Mason definitely noticed this. "I don't want to deal with the entire magical population anyways. Most of them are isolationist bastards who don't give a shit about this country." Mason nodded in agreement -that was the cold heart truth and if they weren't, United States would already be helping the Ministry of Magic in the War Against Voldemort. "What I care about is the few patriotic witches and wizards in my department, working hard, risking their lives everyday to make this country a better place. As long as I can watch over them and keep them safe, I'll be happy."

With that comment, Gary Mason smiled. "I've always liked your ideology Mr. Wizard. I shall help you. What does he offer?"

"He's offering all the resources he has to help us take action against Voldemort. He has fallen out of the Dark Lord's ranks, but he does have the expertise in the field. Additionally, hes offered to train our agents and black ops to battle death-eaters."

"Interesting proposal," Mason began reading his files again. "What does he want in return?"

"He wants immunity."

"That's it?" Mason looked up, surprised.

"He also wants information regarding Voldemort's activity here."

"He killed your god-son," Mason mentioned casually. "That's up to you." Michaels managed not to react -Mason was testing his stability again.

"He also wants unlimited access to our magical technology for some plan he won't tell me about."

"Who does he think he is? Dumbledore?"

"No," Michael explained. "But he was overdosed in Veritaserum when we caught him. Because of the overdose he's now immune to the drug."

"I see"

"So should we let him have it?"

"Well," Mason smiled slyly. "We do have the upper-hand on him. Tell him that our answer depends on the quality of his offer."

"Good point, sir" Michaels allowed a smile.

"Does he want anything else?"

"Yeh. . . yes," Michaels stumbled in answering this question. "There's one more demand, a quite interesting one by that."

"What is it?"

"He wants to track down a witch's activities here and then find her," Michaels elaborated. "He wants. . . Hermione Granger."

_Now I did now see that one coming_. That was one of Gary Mason's best kept secrets.

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	2. Return of the Queen

I hopeyou people in US had a good Independence Day

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**Return of the Queen**

Diagon Alley was a twisted and magical street located in - at least accessed from - the center of London. For centuries, it served as the most popular market place for British witches and wizards, a place where almost any rare and interesting pieces of magic could be found and bought. But that was now over as history brought itself to a new era. The second war had truly begun, thousands were killed, and the crash of the market system deserted the alley except for the few brave people and mere idiots who dared to roam through it.

Few places kept its doors open, though; and, for that reason, every once in a while, death-eaters raided the place, trying to terrorize the remaining inhabitants there. To be more accurate, those who raided the alley were more like common thugs or gang members, only there because no one tried to stop them. What was the point after all, when attempting to crush the little weaklings would result in the ultimate wrath from the Dark Lord himself?

The annoying pestilence never discouraged the Weasley twins from closing their store. Through the years, they had revolutionized the defense-against-the-dark-arts industry, from discovering a cheap way to produce a perfectly functional invisibility cloak to the creation of advanced defense and decoy systems to help commoners protect themselves against the hands of evil.

"Here you go, ma'am," George Weasley, wearing his seeker goggles, handed the invisibility-cloaked young lady a bag full of decoy detonators and instant darkness powders. The goggles were the Weasley Twins' greatest invention yet. To protect themselves, most people now wore the invisibility cloak everywhere. Therefore the twins needed a way to distinguish who they were selling things to, because the person behind the cloak could have been an enemy. The goggles allowed the wearer to see clearly through darkness, disguises, and invisibility cloaks, allowing the twins to sell their goods only to those who could be trusted. It also meant that the wearer couldn't see any clothes, but its creators sure didn't see a problem with it.

"Thank you very much," a pretty girl their age smiled and took the bag, "Are you sure you don't want any money"

"No, it's fine," George took off his goggles for a second to show his charming smile to the "invisible" beauty. "Just trying to contribute to the society." He forgot to say, _what's the use of money in this world? It's useless!_

"Aww," George saw the girl smile admiringly as he put his goggle back on. "That is so wonderful of you."

"Have a good day!" They said to each other.

_Mmph! I love this thing!_ George tried not to blush, enjoying the unexpected benefit of his creation as the girl turned around and walked toward the exit.

Fred came down the stairs, punched George for not letting him share the fun, and joined George in the gawking game. All he saw instead was a green flash of light hitting the mortal goddess as she walked out of the door.

_Bloody hell, another raid!_ The twins took out their wands in reflex.

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Crabbe and Goyle exited the Knockturn Alley and entered the Diagon Alley, minutes before the pretty girl exited the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. 

"Ionno vy ve have ta do gis chetuped drob (I don't know why we have to do this stupid job)," Crabbe complained as he chewed on his turkey sandwich.

"Yeah. . . there are. . . duh, um, dum," Goyle dumbly agreed, trying to remember the word for more dumb." "Dumber people to do this job."

"Heh heh, yeah," Crabbe agreed, hurling spells at random directions with his wand. "Dumb."

Crabbe felt a little bad for Goyle, his best friend. He didn't used to be this dumb; _it's all because he got himself knocked out during that battle_, Crabbe thought, not realizing that he, too, was considered an idiot. It wasn't too hard of a job anyways - all they had to do was hurl curses randomly and hurt as many people possible. No one even bothered to retaliate anymore - except for the Weasley Twins and Gringotts, which was now strictly off-limits.

Crabbe was too busy eating to notice that they were at the proximity of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a place they usually avoided. Goyle, who was too dumb to do anything but eat and hurl curses, didn't notice either. As the shop door opened, one of Goyle's kill spells hit the invisible person walking out. The invisibility cloak flung off as a pretty girl revealed herself, dead, and fell stiffly onto the ground.

"Bloody hell!" Crabbe, seeing what Goyle had done, knew the consequences of such an event. He quickly cast a dark mark, a skull and a snake, onto the sky, hoping his fellow death-eaters would see the sign and come to help. A moment later, world turned dark around him as they heard voices, familiar voices, around them.

"You should have known better before you killed a pretty girl like that." George Weasley's voice echoed through the darkness.

"We should make girls out of you." Fred Weasley's voice joined.

"Well," George laughed. "We won't be taking away all that much anyways."

Crabbe began to panic, feeling the perspiration itch in his back. It was too dark to even see Goyle, who should have been right next to him. Something told him that Goyle was panicking even more. Goyle was shrieking, as if he was casting curses with even more intensely, with even more randomness, without considering that Crabbe was right next to him.

"Goyle, stop!" Crabbe yelled, but all he got in return was a red bolt of light hitting him square in the face. He didn't feel the back of his head cracking on the brick wall.

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It had been a fair game until there were about five death-eaters for one of them. Just as the effects of the instant darkness powder worn off, death-eaters began popping up. Soon enough, it had been another shoot-out between the Order members and the death-eaters. In this case, though, it was a continuous stream of death-eaters against the twins. The twins had taken down about ten of them already, but they kept popping in faster than the twins could neutralize them. 

"Fred!" George yelled out from the other side of the alley. "If we don't knock these bloody buggers out faster, this whole mess would be a ten on one, ugh!" He somersaulted sideway, dodging two spells, one for his head, and the other for his legs.

"George, watch out!" George quickly realized that he was about to hit the wall and apparated to some other part of the street, knocking out a death-eater by landing.

"Fred, you watch out!" George, watching a red bolt of light zoom toward Fred, deflected three spells targeted toward him right back at their individual castors. As for Fred, who had taken his attention off of his six opponents for the sake of George, he didn't have enough time to react. The curse hit him square in the chest. "FREEEEEEED!"

George back kicked the death-eater sneaking behind him in the face and disapparated as Fred, spinning around, hit the wall and fell onto the ground. Momentarily, George apparated in front of his fallen twin, grabbing the dropped wand to begin hurling two spells at once. George managed to defend himself - being the skilled fighter that he was and due to the fact that the death-eater reinforcements were not very skilled - but he knew more of them would come. He could have just disapparated with his twin - that would have surely saved their lives - but he couldn't because the goods in his shops were too valuable, too important, for the Order's cause. They were its protectors, and they were failing at it. _Damn it, why couldn't they have come an hour later, when more of us would be here!_ More and more death-eaters apparated into the alley, casting their curses at the double-wanded red-head. Soon enough, it was twenty on one. _Bloody hell! I can't beat them! _Just as George thought so, a blue bolt of light hit his stomach; George quickly fell to his knees and passed out.

"Heh," A bald death-eater walked toward the fallen wizards. "The great Weasley Twins, fallen at last. Master would be happy." He pointed the wand at George's unconscious head. "Avada. . ."

Right that moment, a cloaked figure landed directly on top of the bald death-eater's head. The figure's boots crushed the man's head onto the ground, making a cracking noise that startled all of the other death-eaters surrounding him.

"I suggest you give up," a cold feminine voice announced behind the shadow of her hood. "You stand no chance against me."

"You think you can beat us, little girl?" The death-eaters began laughing. "More of us are coming by the seconds! You'll end up like those two red-headed idiots behind you!"

"I'm sorry; did I say you can talk?" The female coldly replied. "Diagon Alley is now an Apparition-Free Zone. Your devilish minions shall not be arriving anytime soon, I'm afraid."

"Who said they were coming through the Diagon Alley?" A bearded death-eater snorted. "We've still got the Knockturn Alley and you can't enchant that place no matter how hard you try!"

"Well," the hooded girl chuckled and pointed at the Knockturn Alley with her free hand. "Why don't you fellows take a nice look?"

The death-eaters gazed at the scenery, horrified to realize that the Knockturn Alley was burning.

"A nice niche don't you think?" The girl covered in black stepped toward the death-eaters. "Hell made just for devils like you to live in, except you'll be burned alive." Just that moment, a shriek was heard from the said alley. A burning figure jumped out into Diagon Alley from the flaming street and fell onto the ground, dead.

The death-eaters raised their wands and fired simultaneously toward the hooded girl. But she just waved her wand once; all the curses were deflected back toward their individual castors. A few, too slow to dodge the deflected curses, hit the ground. Quickly, the girl cast a spell of her own. She waved her wand upward without a word. Suddenly, all the conscious death-eaters were lifted up in air, flabbergasted that they were now floating.

"A very special boy saved me using a primitive version of this spell once," the girl commented, eyeing the baffled death-eaters. "Unfortunately, one of you devils killed him so I can't pay him back. So I'll have to settle on saving his brothers instead." With that, she smashed the floating death-eaters on to the ground by the command of her wand.

The cracking of bones woke George up. He was still wearing his seeker goggles and as he opened his eyes, all he saw were several naked death-eaters lying semi-lifelessly around him. He tried to bring himself up, soon seeing the smooth legs that could have only belonged to a girl. He turned his sight upward, moving past her rather curved buttocks, beyond her fair-skinned back, and gazed at the hair that could have only belonged to. . .

"Take that perverted thing off George," the hooded girl turned around, covering her privates with her arms because she knew the full capabilities of the goggles. "What would Ron, nevertheless, your mother, think of you for staring at me with that bloody thing?"

"Sorry kiddo," George blushed and took his goggles off along with Fred's, bringing him back to consciousness in the process.

"Thank you," The girl smiled behind the shadow of her over-sized hood and turned back around. "Now back to business."

One of the death-eaters, whom she noticed to be Goyle, was now semi-conscious. Sitting with his back on the wall, his eyes widened with horror as she began to walk toward him. Getting on one knee, she leaned her face toward his ear.

"All these little boys around you," she whispered. "They're all mine. But I'll let you go this time, under two conditions.

"One," She continued. "The next time I see your ugly face down here,I'll personally turn you into one of the girls with my own bare hands. Do you understand me?"

The hooded girl leaned back to look at Goyle's face for an answer. He was too shocked to form the proper reaction. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" She screamed this time, causing the mentally damaged death-eater to cry. He only nodded in fear while tears flooded out of his eyes. Then she revealed her face, causing the crybaby to gasp in frightening revelation.

"Second," She smirked, much like her ex-lover back in US did . "Tell _Voldemort_ that Hermione Granger is back."

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